


Indebted

by Sadbhyl



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Debt, Guilt, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-02-13
Packaged: 2018-01-12 05:41:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1182575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sadbhyl/pseuds/Sadbhyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor tries to repay a debt to Wesley</p>
            </blockquote>





	Indebted

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published February 20, 2004
> 
> Takes place during AtS S3 between New World and Tomorrow. Written for [](http://doyle-sb4.livejournal.com/profile)[**doyle_sb4**](http://doyle-sb4.livejournal.com/) for the [](http://btvs-cupid.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://btvs-cupid.livejournal.com/)**btvs_cupid**.

No one knocked on Wes’s door anymore.

No one he was happy to see, anyway.

He wasn’t sure if he was happy to see Connor.

“I know who you are,” the young man said without preamble.

“I didn’t realize it was a secret.”

“I know why they won’t talk about you.”

“Angel wouldn’t like it if he knew you were here.”

“I don’t care.”

Wes finally relented. “Why don’t you come in?”

Connor looked around, analyzing the apartment like the predator he was. “Nice place,” he said in a voice that showed he didn’t care.

“What can I do for you?” Wes asked equally deadpan.

“You’re the one.” Connor stared him in the eye, his expression glassy and cold. “The one who took me away and gave me to my father.”

“I didn’t give you to anyone,” Wesley protested. “You were taken away from me, and I was gutted like a fish for my troubles.” His chin lifted slightly, exposing the long scar along the underside of his jaw.

Connor reached out and hesitantly drew his fingers along the puckery flesh. Wesley was surprised by the slight tingle the touch left behind. “I wanted to thank you.”

“Thank me?” Wes turned away, feeling a strong need for alcohol. As the whiskey splashed into the bottom of a glass, he said, “You want to thank me for helping get you sent to hell?”

“No, for getting me away from the vampire. My father.” The derision he invested in that one word hurt Wes more than it should. He remembered the infant, happy in his father’s arms. This young man before him was unrecognizable from that sweet baby. His childhood, his joy had been stripped away, leaving only this cold, angry shell.

And Connor was grateful for it.

Wes swallowed the amber alcohol in one long mouthful and poured another one.

“You delivered me.” Connor was unrelenting. “You saved me. That connects us. And I want to thank you.” Connor’s nimble fingers began working the buckle on Wesley’s pants.

In shock, Wes grabbed Connor’s wrist. “No.”

Connor looked surprised, and a little hurt. “I want to.” He tried again.

Wes tightened his grip. “No,” he repeated.

“Please.” Connor’s voice cracked in desperation. “It’s all I have to give.”

His sense of obligation was devouring him. Wesley could see it in his face. For someone who had never owed anything to anyone except his father figure, to Connor this debt was a trap, and he was gnawing off his own leg to get out of it. And once again, it was Wes’s fault.

Wesley didn’t want this. It felt too much like taking advantage of a child. A child who was practically his own nephew. But Connor wasn’t a child anymore. And if it made him feel better, feel that things were put right to do this, then Wes owed it to him to let him.

He let go of Connor’s arm.

Connor made quick work of the pants and the soft boxers beneath, pushing Wes back to fall gracelessly into the armchair behind him. Wes hissed as the boy’s coarse palm closed roughly around his cock, which to Wes’s shame was already hardening under the attention. Connor stroked him roughly, jerking in harsh, erratic strokes that Wes would have complained about in any other situation. Now he took it as penance. Connor knelt, and Wes spread his legs for him, facilitating access. Connor’s warm breath preceded his mouth by only seconds, his long tongue slicking up the length of Wes’s shaft. The wet heat was a comfort, a contact Wes hadn’t realized he was missing until now. He resisted the urge to reach down and stroke the boy’s head.

Connor was young and inexperienced. His tongue moved erratically, the pressure uneven. His experiences pleasuring himself hadn’t educated him in the finer nuances of phallic sensitivity, so he paid scant attention to the frenulum or sac, [no comma here, they’re two different things] focusing his efforts on the long shaft. Wes moaned softly, encouragingly, wanting Connor to be satisfied with the job he was doing. While inexpert, it was getting the desired response, and Wes could feel his belly tighten, his hips itch to move.

He gasped when Connor dropped his lips over the head, sliding it into his warm, slippery mouth. Connor barely took half of it before gagging, and he backed off, dipping down over the top four inches over and over. He had little control of his mouth, so he scraped the sensitive skin with his teeth often, making Wes hiss. But there was as much pleasure as pain in his reaction. Wes would have liked more tonguing, more touching, but his body responded the way the male form did to any stimulation. Each short stroke brought the fire closer and closer until Wes started coming with a throaty moan.

Connor pulled his head back and watched the pearls of cum shoot out, landing in warm pools on Wes’s stomach and shirt. Then he slowly stood, watching as Wes regained his breath, the boy’s expression numb, neutral.

“Are we even now?” Wes finally asked, unconcerned by his own partial nudity.

Connor continued watching him, finally slowly nodding in agreement.

“Good.” And Wes caught the waistband of Connor’s jeans, opening them to let his hard-on spill out.

Wes wrapped his hand around the length, keeping Connor from pulling away. He leaned forward, drawing Connor closer until he was able to reach out his tongue and lick over the head of the other man’s cock.

Connor cried out, hands locking on Wes’s shoulders, uncertain whether to push away or pull closer.

Wes used the time to lavish attention on the swollen cap, finding all the sensitive spots, his hand still gripping tightly around the bottom of the shaft, pulling along it in short milking strokes. Connor’s hips thrust desperately, and Wes allowed him to slide between his lips, continuing the steady action of his tongue down the length until lips bumped against fist. His other hand gripped Connor’s hip, pushing and pulling to establish a rhythm for the boy to fuck Wes’s mouth as he worked his tongue over every sensitive inch, twisting his head to increase the sensation. Connor’s pleasure was wrung out in sobbing gasps, and Wes knew the boy only had moments left. Rhythm firmly established, he reached between Connor’s legs to fondle his testicles, defining the shape of each sphere before rolling them together in his palm.

Connor came with a roar, hands fisting in Wes’s hair as he thrust as deep into Wesley’s mouth as he was able. Wes kept him there tightly, sucking each spurt along the cock and down his throat until Connor had nothing more to spill. Soft, gentle strokes cleaned him before Wes released him, pulling the boy down onto the couch with him to curl up in his arms.

It took a long time for Connor to be able to speak, but when he did, his voice was sulky. “You shouldn’t have done that. Now I owe you again.”

Wes stroked his hair gently. “Will you let me show you what to do next time?”

Connor relaxed against him, giving himself up to the gentle touches. “Yeah.”

“Then I don’t see that that’s a problem.”


End file.
